


Red

by kcm



Category: One Direction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcm/pseuds/kcm





	Red

I was so angry I only saw red as the steaming water cascading over my body. I stood under the stream, my hands on the wall in front of me, my head dropped, the water pulling my hair around my face.

Still not hot enough, I thought.

I turned the heat up more, trying to relax my tense shoulders. I bit my lip against the warmth, feeling a scalding on my skin that was welcome.

He was such a fucking prick. He always did this shit, always. But what made it worse was his habit of acting innocent. Like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But if I had done it, if I had been the one, he would have lost his shit.

I sighed deeply, reaching down and grabbing the shampoo. Squirting some into my hand, I scrubbed my long, dark hair roughly, as if trying to clean away the images from earlier that night. I repeated the process with the conditioner, then the body wash, but could still see him clearly in my mind.  
 __

_He laughed his flirtatious laugh, reaching out to touch her arm. He made it seem like a casual gesture, but the reaction in her eyes was anything but casual._

_She laughed with him, leaning into him, putting her hand on his chest. He didn’t move away from the touch._

_She lifted herself onto her toes, leaning into him further to whisper something in his ear only he could hear. The look on his face left little doubt that it had been a proposition._

_That was when he had seen me. Seen me watching him. His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open._

_I spun on my heels, dropping my glass on the bar and grabbing my bag from the stool beside me._

_“Where ya goin, love?” Niall had asked, confusing clouding his blue eyes._

_I didn’t answer him, I just ran. I pushed my way through the people who had suddenly gathered to block my escape. I pushed passed the security at the door, including some of our own, making sure fans kept themselves in line._

_I shoved the heavy door aside roughly, the cold November air hitting me like a slap in the face. I didn’t have a jacket, the only cover on my skin being the little black lace dress that covered me from my breasts to my thighs._

_It was his favorite._

_I glanced at our cars, lined up around the corner from the club._

_Fuck it, I thought, throwing my arm out and hailing a cab._

_I slid into the back seat, calling out our hotel to the driver just as I saw him rush through the door. He started for the car just as we pulled away._

_I didn’t turn around to see if he watched me go.  
_

Remembering it all in my mind just made me more angry.

He always did this. He always flirted like a madman, living up to his playboy ways whenever we went out. He thought I didn’t see, or maybe just didn’t care.

I was partly to blame. All this time, I let him do it. I never said anything. I turned a blind eye, looking away, taking a long sip of my drink. Avoiding his eyes.

Tonight was different. I watched him, intently, angrily. And when he looked over, he saw me, watching him. And I held his gaze, making sure the hurt, the shame, the anger was evident. Making sure he SAW exactly what he did to me.

I sighed loudly, my lip trembling as I rubbed my hands over my face.

“Babe?”

The sound of his voice in the bathroom jump started my heart. My eyes widened as I looked at the shower curtain that separated me from him.

I heard the bathroom door close with a click, the sound muffled from the falling water around me.

I didn’t answer him.

“Babe, Im sorry.” He said, and even though I knew he couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes at his pathetic apology. “You know that didn’t mean anything.”

I snorted. “Oh fuck off, Harry.” I spat. “You let some girl rub up on you IN FRONT of me, then have the gall to actually tell me that it didn’t mean anything?”

“It didn’t!” he shouted back, annoyance in his voice.

“You know what, Styles? Don’t bother with ‘Im sorry’. How about you don’t do anything to be sorry for, yeah? Maybe try that out. Maybe try to actually give a shit about me? Maybe try to actually stand with ME when we go out, instead of going off to be fondled by all your adoring fans. Maybe don’t leave me in the care of your mates, poor Niall sitting with me at the bar so Im not alone, while you’re out whoring around!”

The words were like lava spewing from my lips. All the months of ignorance I pretended to hold, finally spilling out and in to the open. I was sick and tired of this relationship, or whatever it was. I was fucking sick of the sweet words, tender touches, and confessions of love behind closed doors, and the distance, the separation and the avoidance in public.

“Try and give a shit about you?” he yelled, slamming his fist against the bathroom counter loud enough that I heard it over the water that rushed past my ears. Suddenly the shower curtain flew aside, Harry glaring at me.

My breath caught in my throat. As angry as I was, as much as I wanted to punch him in the face, he was still gorgeous. He had on black dress slacks, a white button up shirt over his torso, the first several buttons undone. His hair was a mess, evidence that he had run his hands through it too many times. It was a habit he had when he was upset.

That tiny observation was a small consolation.

His green eyes bore into mine. “Give a shit? Of course I give a shit! I fucking love you, okay!”

Now it was my turn to be shocked. My face undoubtedly matched the way his had looked at the club, eyes wide, mouth open. My hands hung limp at my sides, and I ignored the fact that I was standing naked in front of him, still in the shower.

It was the first time he had ever said those words to me.

He groaned, running his hands through his hair again. “You fucking infuriate me, you know that, woman! Yes, Im a prick! Yes, I know I shouldn’t let other girls be all over me. And Im fucking sorry it hurts you, okay? But it fucking kills me to hear you say you don’t think I fucking care!”

He looked back at me hard, his mouth a grim line, his eyes narrowed as if he was having some internal debate. Finally, he gave his head a quick shake, pushing the shower curtain further out of his way. “Fuck it.”

He climbed into the shower with me, fully clothed, the water wasting no time in soaking him through. The white shirt clung to his torso, outlining every curve and dip of his chest and abdomen. The water fell onto his hair, turning it to a dark brown, the strands falling into his eyes as he stepped closer to me and pulled the curtain closed behind him.

I took a step back, away from him, shocked at his outburst. He was always playful, happy. He was rarely angry, and I had never seen him so……passionate.

He followed my retreat, taking a few more steps until I was pressed up against the wall of the shower. He pressed his wet body against mine, his hands pressing to either side of my face. He looked me dead in the eye for a quick moment, before his lips claimed mine frantically.

My hands found his chest, trying to steady myself as his lips moved against mine, trying to force some kind of response from me. He pressed himself into me more, the contrast between the cold of the shower wall and the heat of his body shocking to my system.

I sighed at the sensation, Harry taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. There was no denying him, and I finally responded to his kiss. My tongue met his, mingling in an all too familiar way. My body knew his, and responded to him no matter what my brain wanted. He knew how to touch me, where to touch me. He knew too much.

My hands slid up to his shoulders, a sigh leaving my lips. He pulled away just for a second, resting his forehead on mine to stare intently into my eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered, the water from his hair dropping onto my cheeks. “I fucking hate that Im saying this for the first time during a fight, but I love you.”

I felt a flutter in my stomach as I stared back into his green eyes, the excitement of hearing those words brushing aside the anger I felt.

“I love you too,” I heard myself say. “Even if you are a prick.”

Harry smirked back at me, before laughing loudly. “Trust you to cuss me out and tell me you love me in the same sentence.”

“Well, you are a prick, Styles.” I reminded him, twisting my hands into the curls at the base of his neck.

He smiled at me, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll show you how much of a prick I can be, babe.”

His lips came back to mine with such force it almost knocked me down. His hands slid down my naked torso, the water gliding them along, until they grasped my bum tightly. I moaned involuntarily into his mouth, just as he pulled away from me to trail water mixed kisses down my neck. He gave the sensitive flesh a nip, sucking lightly. I pulled a hand down to grasp his side, my hand fisting into the wet material of his shirt. One of his hands travelled down my thigh, hooking under my knee to pull my leg up and around his hip. He ground his crotch into me, forcing a loud groan from my mouth.

His lips came back to mine, curved into his trademark smirk.

“Am I still a prick?” he asked, kissing me gently.

“Definitely.” I nodded, breathless as I returned the kiss.

“Okay then, back at it.” He dipped his head down to my collar bones, running his tongue alone, the heat of his breath mixing with the cooled dampness of my skin. The water continued to fall over him, his hair plastered to his face. He ignored it, his attention turning to my breast, as he slipped his lips over my nipple, giving a few light sucks before nipping it with his teeth. My hands fisted in his hair, my breath becoming ragged at the sensation. He kissed across the valley between my breasts before giving the other the same attention. His hands held my hips firmly against the shower wall, partly for support, and partly to keep me from moving. He trailed his skilled mouth down my torso, kneeling into his knees in the shower.

I looked down at him wide eyed.

“Harry, no!” I protested, reaching forward to try and pull him up. I rarely let him go down on me, feeling awkward and embarrassed despite the skill he possessed.

He pressed my hips harder into the wall, narrowing his eyes at me. “Im a prick, remember?” he growled. “Im going to do it whether you want me to or not.”

He gave me little warning before taking a hand to my thighs, forcing them apart slightly. He slowly grazed his lips along the inside of my thigh, his curls tickling my skin. I closed my eyes tightly, refusing to look at him. I felt the heat of embarrassment flood my face, and I flattened my palms on the shower wall.

I felt his hot tongue slide up my center, and I gasped. My hips shifted away from him, forcing him to bring his hands quickly back to my hips to hold me still. I moved to close my legs again, but he was having none of it. He growled, reaching down to hook my one leg around his arm, bringing his hands back to my hips so now my leg was raised and standing on the edge of the tub, secured in place my his arm and hands.

I was trapped by him.

He wasted no time going back to his mission, sliding his tongue along me again. And again. He travelled a mixture of circles and strokes along me, my breath increasing and becoming more erratic at his torture. I mentally sighed with relief that I had just showered, the thought pushed away abruptly when his lips curled around my center and sucked. Hard.

I cried out, my legs almost giving way. I would probably have fallen if he hadnt been holding me against the wall so forcefully.

He did it again, forcing another cry from me, my hands clenching into his hair for something to hold on to. His tongue slid lazy circles around me, calming the nerves, before giving one more hard suck.

I sagged forward, unable to stop myself, placing my hands on his shoulders to stop myself from walling. Harry slipped his arm out from under my leg, letting it fall limp back to the shower floor. He slid kisses up my stomach, between my breasts, before finding my lips again. I kissed him back weakly, still shaking from the sensations he just sent through me.

“Still a prick?” he questioned, smirking at me.

I had lost all ability of speech. So instead, I just nodded.

His smirk broadened, and he let out a dramatic sigh. “You are a stubborn woman.”

He started kissing me again, one hand twisted in my hair, while the other travelled back down my body to my center again. I tried to step back, but was met yet again with the cold wall. Harry moved forward, pressing his chest to mind to hold me.

He quickly slipped two fingers inside me, giving me no time to adjust before he started to spin and curl them in an expert motion. His palm pressed against my already sensitive core, the heat sliding up my body intensified from the heat of the shower.

I moaned into his mouth. “God….Harry, please….”

“Whats that, babe?” he whispered, curling his fingers again to press against a spot deep inside me I didn’t know was there before I had met this man. He kissed down my neck again.

“…please….” Was all I was able to answer.

I felt his lips curl into a grin against the skin of my neck.

I pulled back, his hand releasing me, the loss of contact forcing a sigh from my lips. I glared at him, while he had the nerve to look back at me with an innocent grin.

I shook my head at him, my breath still ragged. “You’re a fucking asshole, Styles.” I said, reaching out and grasping the belt of his pants to pull him to me. I kissed him feverishly, frantically, needing him more in that moment than I had at any other point in our relationship.

He laughed against my mouth, finding humor in my mixture of annoyance and sexual need.

My hands fumbled with his belt, releasing it before moving on to the button on his pants. I just pulled, and thankfully it popped open, the zipper sliding down obediently. I pushed the pants over his hips, and they fell to the shower floor with a thud, the fabric soaked and heavy. My hands moved to his shirt, slipping on the wet buttons as his lips explored my neck and shoulder. His fingers dug gently into the flesh of my waist, and I growled in frustration.

“Fuck this,” I said, gripping the edges of the shirt and pulling sharply. The buttons flew off in every direction, clattering to the shower floor.

“That was my good shirt!” he complained, before I pushed him back against the other wall of the shower. I slipped my hands under the fabric of his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms. It fell to the floor along with his discarded pants.

I pressed myself to him, my hands sliding, grabbing, caressing and exploring every inch of the newly exposed skin. I felt his length pressed into my stomach, and smiled against his lips.

Slipping my fingers under the elastic of his underwear, I kissed down his chest and hard stomach, sliding them down as I moved. I came to my knees, just as he had, looking up at him. His breath was shaky, his eyes hooded with lust. I held his gaze as I took his length in my small hand, sliding my lips over the head. His eyes closed, a deep sigh slipping past his lips. I closed my own eyes, focusing on my task. I slipped my lips further along him, my hand making up for what I mouth couldn’t accommodate. He was long, and I could only take so much in. Pulling back out, I gave a hard suck, and his hands were quickly in my hair.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned through gritted teeth. I ran my tongue along his underside, flicking the base of the head, causing him to buck his hips. I ran circles with my tongue as I bobbed my head, sucking with each retraction. His hands tightened in my hair, hisses coming from him breathing through gritted teeth.

I pressed him further into my mouth, taking as much as I could, before moving back out painfully slowly, pulling him with a long, leisurely suck.

“FUCK,” I yelled, pulling at my hair. “Baby, stop, I don’t want to go yet.”

I gave him a few more quick licks, before releasing him and travelling kisses back up his wet body.

The moment I was standing again, he was pressing me back against the other shower wall, just as we had been before. My hands wound in his hair, as his moved down my body, cupping my bum and lifting me into the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed me securely against the shower wall, never breaking our kiss.

I felt his head at my entrance, and was aching for some kind of relief. He knew this, and lower me every so slowly, just a couple inches, teasing me. His head pushed past my entrance, but not enough to give me relief from the ache. I growled into his mouth, biting down angrily on his bottom lip. He laughed against my lips, sliding me down another inch. I sighed, but then groaned as he lifted me back off him.

I pulled my mouth from his. “You are suck a prick!”

I grinned, narrowing his eyes, before he dropped me down, filling me so quickly and so completely that I yelled out.

“FUCK!”

His eyes stayed locked on my expression of shock, pain, and relief. I panted, gritting my teeth as I tried to relax, feeling the stretch of my core around him. He waited, letting me accommodate, before leaning forward and kissing me gently.

After a few moments, he pressed his hips into me, filling me more. I curled my hips to meet him, and we found a familiar rhythm. His fingers dug into the flesh of my bum, while mine gripped at his shoulders.

My head fell back against the shower wall, my breath panting.

He dropped his head to the curve of my neck, kissing occasionally, but mainly groaning against my skin.

He ground into me, thrusting hard, his pace steady. I dug my heels into his bum, forcing him deeper. He moved his hands down, the action shifting my hips at an angle. The moment he did this, every thrust hit a spot in my body that had me seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck! Harry, please…” I called, completely incoherently.

He growled into my neck, his fingers digging painfully into my skin.

His pace quickened, and I knew he wasn’t far off. I could hardly breathe, every thrust forcing the air from my lungs, as my hands grappled against his wet, slick body for something to hold on to.

“God, babe, Im close,” he groaned, never lifting his head from my neck. The vibrations of his words on my skin sent shivers down my spine.

“….Harry, I….God,….cant….”

He began to lose rhythm, faltering slightly. He growled, annoyed with himself, giving a few hard, painful thrusts. His lust and determination sent me over the edge, my core clenching around him, sending shock waves through my body. I dug my nails into his shoulders, my eyes squeezing together tightly as I lost all breath.

The feeling of me tightening in climax around him gave him the edge he needed for his own release, and with a final thrust, he threw his head back, gritting his teeth.

“Fuck, babe, ah….”

He adjusted his footing, steadying himself with one hand on the wall above my head, the other still on my bum holding me up. We both shook against the sensations rolling through our bodies, panting as he caught our breath.

I kept my eyes closed, my head falling forward and onto his shoulder. His hot breath tickled my shoulder, his hair dripping onto my skin.

He let out a loud sigh, both hands coming back to my bum again.

“Babe, I gotta sit before I fall.” He said, holding me securely as he pulled away from the wall and slid to the floor of the shower. Once seated, he ran his hands up and down my back, my legs still wrapped around him. We were still connected, but neither of us seemed in a hurry to separate.

The water fell over us, sprinkling our sensitive skin. He pulled back, reaching up to lift my chin with a finger until I met his eyes.

He had a heavy, sleepy look on his face, as he peppered my lips with small kisses.

“Still a prick?” he asked, smiling at me.

I nodded. “Yes. But you’re my prick.”

He laughed. “That I am, babe.”


End file.
